


Sick.

by maximum_overboner



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (mario voice) here-a we go, Dark Darkfic, Darkfic, Fontcest, Heavy on the angst, M/M, Oneshot, Praise Kink, Self Loathing, distressing sexual content, dubcon, extremely warped dynamic, humping, it's very grim is what i'm trying to say, jerking off, realistic reactions to incest, uncomfortable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner
Summary: Papyrus blurts out something he shouldn’t have, and Sans takes his coddling to horrifying extremes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> my friend had a birthday! and requested fontcest. i would have a hard time writing fluffy fontcest where everyone is well adjusted, so i'm very happy she gave me the chance to make everything Grim and Terrible 
> 
> please take a long, hard look at the content warnings. if you're still here, i very much hope you enjoy it!

 

“I’M SO SORRY.”

Sans could only stare at his feet, slowly wriggling his toes against the fibres of the carpet to see if he could feel them. He could not.

“how long.”

“GOD, I’M SO, SO SORRY.”

Sans tried to focus his swimming vision. Even sat down, it felt as if his legs were going to give and he would collapse forward. Papyrus was on the other side of the couch, bouncing his leg and wishing he weren’t to stupid, so ignorant as to think opening his mouth was a good idea.

Papyrus leaned forward to pacify Sans, who was stunned, locked in place, and winced when Sans leaned away.

“how long, papyrus,” he choked.

Papyrus was frantic. A barrier had been removed and like it or not, it was all coming out. He clamped his hands to his mouth, but couldn’t stop the torrent.  

“I-- A WHILE. I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO-- I DIDN’T MEAN-- IT’S SICK, I KNOW--”

“how long’s ‘a while’.”

Papyrus snapped his gaze away.

“GOD, IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE. IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU?”

Sans didn’t have an easy answer for him. He didn’t even know where to begin.

“I-- I CAN’T STOP IMAGINING US TOGETHER, AND IT EATS ME UP INSIDE, I CAN’T CONCENTRATE, I CAN’T DO ANYTHING, I HATE MYSELF FOR THINKING--”

“don’t.”

Papyrus was almost bellowing in panic, arms swinging, spittle flying from his mouth as everything he had ever known crumbled around him.

“DON’T WHAT?”

“don’t-- don’t say things like that. it ain’t right.”

“WELL, I’M SORRY TO BE THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS, BUT THIS SITUATION ISN’T RIGHT! AND I’VE GONE AND RUINED EVERYTHING--!”

“you haven’t.”

Papyrus threw his arms up in exasperation, a frenzied ball of movement. Sans sat there.

“WELL, WHAT WOULD YOU CALL THIS, THEN? IT’S NOT AS IF I COULD POSSIBLY EXPECT YOU TO RETURN MY FEELINGS, IN FACT, IT WOULD BE WRONG IF YOU DID--!”

Sans spoke without thinking, anything to make him feel better.

“what if i did, huh?”

Papyrus froze, until they were staring at each other. Sans wanted to vomit.  

“PLEASE DON’T BE CRUEL. THIS ISN’T THE TIME FOR JOKES.”

What the hell was he doing.

“it ain’t.”

Astonished, Papyrus leaned forward, tempering his urge to pull him into a crushing hug.

“Y-YOU WANT TO--?”

“yeah.”

Papyrus gave in, throwing himself around Sans.

“I COULD CRY!”

“i know how you feel,” he murmured, an idiot.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a matter of slowly working their way through the dating rulebook. And at the start, it was if nothing had changed. Had the conversation been ignored, their dynamic was the same, except pepper with more glances from Papyrus, and more awkward silences on Sans’ end.

“WEARING _CLOTHING_ , I SEE.”

“yup.”

And then it grew closer. Papyrus stood a little nearer, when they were on duty. Sans gave him the occasional chaste peck on the head. And, after Sans had checked and checked again that nobody would see, he let Papyrus hold his clammy palms under the sentry desk. Until, finally, Papyrus tapped Sans on the shoulder when they were at home relaxing in his bedroom as the racecar bed had even springs that wouldn’t dig in when he got comfy, and cleared his throat.

“I WAS THINKING, WE COULD… BECOME CLOSER.”

Sans looked up from his book.

“you wanna cuddle?”

And Sans knew that look anywhere. He had shot it to enough people in passing.

“IN… A MANNER OF SPEAKING.”

Sans felt his chest tighten, as if in a vice.

“oh, you wanna… i… kinda assumed you weren’t really into--?”

“IT’S NOT THAT. IT’S JUST... HARD TO TALK ABOUT. PRIVATE. YOU’RE MY BROTHER, AFTER ALL.”

The statement hung in the air, and Papyrus quelled the little flame of self loathing that came with it, because it didn’t matter anymore. He could be honest. Sans could only stare back, distant. Gone.

“BUT NOW THAT THINGS ARE AS THEY SHOULD, I FELT AS IF I SHOULD BE TRUTHFUL. AND TELL YOU THAT I-- I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT REALLY--”

The vice tightened still. It felt as if leeches were wriggling in his ribs, cold and lurid and fit to pop.

“oh.”

“BUT I WOULD REALLY, REALLY LIKE TO--”

Dammit. That settled it then. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Fuck.

Papyrus was so naive regarding sex that Sans could fob him off with anything. Great. Good to see that smaller failure was aiding this massive, hideous failure.  Cunt was probably a good call for this, even if it wasn’t his usual choice. Probably feel better for Pap.

At the slight nod of resignation that Papyrus misunderstood as playing coy he rested his hands behind his skull and let his cock materialize.

There it was. Huh. How awful.

Wanting it to be over and to return to his book, Sans moved his joggers aside, lowering himself on Papyrus’ cock but finding he was bone dry. Heh.

Sans grit his teeth, willing himself to become wetter, before slowly pushing down again. Papyrus’ hands pulled at the bedsheets, twisting them until they almost split.

“OH WOW, THAT’S-- THAT’S KIND OF SORE--”

Papyrus stuck two digits in his mouth, coating them in saliva, before briefly pulling out of Sans to finger him. Too hard. Too clumsy. Scraping. Insides slicked, Papyrus moved to try again.

“thanks,” Sans croaked.

“DON’T MENTION IT,” Papyrus soothed, “EVERYONE NEEDS HELP SOMETIMES.”

Slowly he pushed until he had sunk in entirely, before holding himself still for Sans’ sake. His head was thrown back, breaths shallow and quick, eyes locked open. All he could do was pant and try to process the feeling coursing through him, pulsing from his pelvis to the ends of him, and back. Like he was feeling the low hum of electricity.

Sans scrunched his eyes shut, trying to accommodate his brother’s cock, and above that, trying not to retch. Something foreign had wormed its way into him, and all he had to do was bounce on it until Papyrus came.

… The full realisation of what Sans was doing cut through his fog, and he looked to where they were joined, Papyrus hissing through his teeth as tears trickled down his face.

God almighty. There was nothing lower.

In an effort to distract himself, Sans parted his legs a little, before laboriously rising up to sink Papyrus’ cock--

He was going to gag.

\-- Back in, feeling it pulse and twitch as he writhed underneath him.

“OH MY GOD, SANS,” he squealed, “SANS, SANS, SANS, GOD, IT’S--”

Down. Up. Clench once or twice for effect, to help Papyrus along. Sans was always good at that. Making Papyrus happy.

Papyrus, in response, looked at Sans dead on, like a corpse looking back at him from a slab. At the sight his arousal heightened and his back arched, pelvis nearly lifting Sans’ knees off the bed entirely, distracting him from his duties. He was yelping with every movement, years of suppressed arousal finally being expressed, and with the man he loved.

Sans looked down at him with pity. Love, revulsion, and pity. Whatever had gone wrong had gone spectacularly wrong, for both of them, something far beyond the little flaws they had. This was not ‘sleeping all day’. This was not ‘neuroticism’. This was not ‘nagging’. This was sick. A massive, gaping chasm across their egos, and this was the easy fill. This, of all things, was the easy route.

Wearily, Sans sunk himself down and Papyrus scrabbled his legs, panting like a rabid dog. He yelped.

“YOU FEEL SO GOOD-- IS-- IS THIS ALWAYS LIKE THIS--?”

“yeah. sex is supposed to be fun.”  
  
“I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I’M HAVING AN ABSOLUTE BLAST. A PARTY IN MY GROIN, BUT NOBODY IS INVITED EXCEPT FOR YOU.”

Sans actually chuckled at the very Papyrus turn-of-phrase, and that was the kindling that set his guilt alight. What were they doing?

“please-- please don’t talk while i do this.”

Papyrus looked hurt.

“-- it’s distracting,” he said.

Grinding forward and back, letting him really feel the soft insides of his cunt.

Brothers didn’t do this.

Sans wondered if he could tap into the little tidbits he knew of Papyrus, that came effortlessly with years of cohabiting, or if that would make this act even more of an abomination than it already was. Still, it was worth a try. If it worked, it would be over far sooner, and Sans could blister his bones clean in the shower and not think for a while. Better this than have his thoughts bubble into blains of resentment, and that could not ever be allowed to happen. This was a burden he was taking on to make his brother happy. His innocent, sweet brother, that couldn’t be tarnished by a lover that might wish him harm. Take advantage of him. Sully him. His strong, fragile brother.

Sans was always good at keeping him company when nobody else would. And if he couldn’t do it now, what was he good at?

If Sans didn’t have Papyrus, what else did he have?

“you’re real big, y’know.”

Papyrus glanced up at him, not understanding, and Sans calmed his shaking breaths, his juddering hands.

“your dick. it‘s real big.”

Papyrus felt a huge jolt of arousal, scrunching his face in response to the spike in this delightful new feeling.

“WH--”

“real thick, too.”

Papyrus felt a pressure build, until it was almost burgeoning, and it compelled him to thrust harder, faster, until Sans was entirely off the bed, suspended by Papyrus’ hands as he was pummeled. Any harder and his hips would snap. It was a brutal, desperate fuck. Sans could barely speak.

“gonna-- gonna split me in half if you keep that up, h-heh.”

Papyrus looked to him through his bleary, pleasured haze, and it seemed very appealing. God, Sans, above him, naked, face contorting in pleasure as they fucked (how very scandalous!), it was everything he could have--

“y-you gonna cum, pappy?”

That did it.

Papyrus’ body locked in place, before a guttural, broken groan crawled out of his mouth as he spurted his seed in a very sore, very weary Sans. His hips began to spasm as his body experienced release for the very first time. He looked as confused as he did blissed out, toes curling and grip tightening enough to bruise bone.

In exquisite, writhing agony, Papyrus continued to thrust as best he could. It felt like he was on fire, like his nerves were being individually set alight and tugged on and abused, and he didn’t recall ever feeling so fantastic, so finally fulfilled.

Sans had his eyes shut, and Papyrus attributed it to arousal.

“ _I--I CAN’T-- I CAN’T STOP THIS MUST HURT I’M SORRY--_ ”

He was hammering into Sans smaller body like he was battering a nail into a wall, over and over, while Sans could only make hiccup noises upon each impact until finally, Papyrus slowed, spent. Wincing at the raw piece of flesh between his legs, Sans scraped himself off, wincing as Papyrus’ painfully hard cock intensified the pain of removal before lying down, wheezing and prostrated. His cunt vanished and he was left with a tingling, hollow warmth.

Papyrus turned to face him, eyes lidded and grin dopey, cuddling up and peppering him with kisses.

Sans responded. Hands on his shoulders. A kiss on the scalp. Stroke it; one, two, one, two--

“DID YOU… FINISH?”

No.

“yeah.”

Papyrus’ shoulders sunk in relief.

“OH, GOOD! I WAS WORRIED, SINCE I’M SO INEXPERIENCED.”

“night.”

Sans turned, eyes open, to face away from Papyrus, his book no longer holding any appeal.

“... TIRED! YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED. OF COURSE, I… WAS QUITE VIGOROUS IN MY LOVEMAKING! I UNDERSTAND YOUR RAMPANT LAZINESS.”

Papyrus gave him a gentle smooch on the back of the head.

“I’M OFF TO GO HAVE A SHOWER. I LEAKED LIKE A FAUCET, AND I DON’T LIKE THIS STICKINESS.”

Sans winced.

“UNLESS YOU WOULD LIKE TO JOIN ME…? WE DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT COVERING UP ANYMORE.”

“i’ll pass, thanks.”

“NO PROBLEM. ENJOY HAVING ONE OF THOSE HIDEOUSLY LONG NAPS,” he ribbed affectionately, “WHILE I’M OFF TO BE A PRODUCTIVE MEMBER OF SOCIETY.”

“yeah.”

The door clicked shut, bathing Sans in a pale, blue night, and he felt cum coat the inside of his ribs.

 

* * *

 

 

Papyrus, despite having the understanding needed to appreciate the pleasure that came with sex, lacked the capacity to discern when it was appropriate. He would readily take and understand a ‘no’, but saw nothing wrong with pestering Sans every time he was hard, which, given his recent discovery of sexual gratification, was often. Sans was currently doing the dishes. Papyrus had swanned in after him and pressed his erection into the bulk of his tailbone, breathing heavily.

 _“SANS,”_ he purred, low and dripping with want. He slipped the front of his pants down, slowly rubbing it over the polyester of Sans’ shorts and leaving them wet with precum. He gripped in earnest before humping, jostling Sans against the counter, the motion summoning his own cock.

He couldn’t deal with the shame of enjoying it in earnest, not yet. And Undyne would be arriving soon for dinner.

“i’m-- i’m not--”

Papyrus was fucking his clothing, panting and moaning in want. He squatted to improve the friction, rutting loudly enough to fill the kitchen, while Sans gripped the counter in an effort to keep from falling off the stool he was stood on.

“--really in the mood right now, pap.”

Papyrus slowed as the words sunk in, before blinking. Then, he stopped entirely before rooting down the front of Sans’ joggers.

“... BUT YOU’RE HARD. IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?”

“just… not feelin’ it, bro,” he lied.

Sans cursed at himself. This isn’t the way he had seen his life going.

“... OH. WELL, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT! THEY ALWAYS GO DOWN AFTER A WHILE, EVEN WHEN THEY’RE REALLY, REALLY HARD.”

Sans put the dish in the sink, leaving the water to fester, before giving Papyrus a confused glance.

“can’t you just go jerk it in the bathroom?”

Papyrus cocked his head.

“WHAT?”

Oh.

“... y’know? masturbate?”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.”

Sans balked.

“how the hell can you not know?”

“YOU NEVER TOLD ME.”

Something twisted in Sans’ gut. A wrong he had to make right. Another bout of self-abasement he apparently couldn’t refrain from.

“go sit down,” he said quietly.

Papyrus did so, his considerable erection tenting his shorts as he sat down in the living room, legs spread, self consciousness not occurring to him. Sans followed, sitting next to him.

“take it ou--”

Papyrus had already done so, looking very pleased with where the situation was headed. Slowly, Sans gripped the hard mass of Papyrus’ cock, before softly tugging, as he would his own. Papyrus whimpered, raising his hips off the sofa in desperation.

“don’t shut your eyes.”

Papyrus looked at him, eyes lidded, cock twitching. Sans averted his gaze.

“don’t look at me, either. look at what i’m doin.”

For effect, Sans tugged a little harder than he should have, and Papyrus moaned.

If he learns, he’ll do it himself. Lighten the load. Get it over with once, save himself the hassle in the future. To quiet Papyrus’ worries, Sans tugged on it one more time, and squeezed a yelp out of him.

Papyrus clumsily pawed at Sans’ cock in tandem over his sweatpants.

“D-DOES THIS FEEL GOOD?”

Fuck. It actually did.

“y-yeah.”

Sans took a deep breath, feeling a growing, gnawing heat, and resumed his ministrations. Jerking evenly from the bottom to the leaking tip, the flesh of his cock sliding to accommodate the motions as it slowly grew wet with precum.

He felt himself drip.

He had been so wrapped in self-rancour these past few weeks that it was becoming harder and harder to have it stick. Now it was just… Happening.  He didn’t protest when Papyrus fumblingly pulled his fat cock out.

It was just.

Happening.

Papyrus looked to what Sans was doing, scrutinizing, studying as an apprentice would, before inexpertly mimicking the movements. Squeezing too hard, and rubbing too quickly. Thinking back to their last time, Papyrus removed his glove before hesitatingly spitting into his palm. Filthy. Dirty. Good.

Sans sighed in resignation because with the benefit of lube he was probably going to cum this time.

On cue, Papyrus began to jerk again, and Sans’ chest rumbled in pleasure. Papyrus looked smug.

“OH, YOU DO MAKE NOISE! NOT SO HIGH AND MIGHTY NOW, MR. SILENCE-IN-BED MAN.”

Sans could only watch as he came undone, legs opening to accommodate Papyrus’ movements as they grew more confident, until they were jerking each other off in perfect tandem and Papyrus’ louder vocalisations were joined by Sans’ quiet, more restrained moans. The sensation still being a novelty to him, Papyrus came first, loud and thrashing and uncontrolled, yelping, “SANS! SANS!” as if he would never be able to say it again when it was all over. Papyrus’ grip went limp and fell away, just as Sans’ climax was building. He could take comfort in the fact that at least he had never cum. Hide behind that last bastion of dignity.

Papyrus ducked down, and before Sans could process what was happening, his cock with slicked with saliva as Papyrus fucked him with the wet cavern of his mouth.

_“d-dude--!”_

Caught off-guard, he came in Papyrus’ mouth, gripping his skull on instinct and pressing him down until he could only make choked noises. Papyrus gave him two solid thuds on the hip, a signal to tap out, and Sans let go. He was shaking from the come-down, eyes unfocused.

“s-sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“I LIKED IT! THAT FELT GOOD.”

Sans wasn’t quite sure how to quantify what he was feeling, but a small part of it was ‘relief’, while the bulk was ‘overwhelming self-loathing’, but that wasn’t new.  Absently, he glanced to the clock on the wall while he adjusted his sweatpants.

“geeze, we cut it close.”

“WE DID. I LIKE THE IDEA THAT WE MIGHT BE CAUGHT. IT MAKES IT FEEL BETTER.”

A statement like that regarding the one of single deepest taboos available did not inspire confidence in Sans.

“you remember what i said?”

“‘DON’T TELL ANYONE’, YES, I KNOW. BUT I COULD HANDLE ALL THE SHAME IN THE WORLD IF IT MEANT I COULD BE WITH YOU.”

Sans couldn’t.

Papyrus sat up, hoping they hadn’t stained the couches.

“I DON’T LIKE THE SNEAKING AROUND. THIS IS OUR HOUSE, WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO WHAT WE WANT.”

“that’s naive.”

“SO? I THINK PEOPLE ARE KINDER THAN YOU ASSUME.”

The doorbell rang, and Papyrus set about cleaning himself up at once. He pointed to himself.

“HOW’S THE FACE?”

“fine.”

Papyrus opened his mouth.

“dude, swallow, there’s some hangin’ out in the back of your jaw.”

He gulped, before opening his mouth again.

“... yeah, there ya go.”

Papyrus stood up, striding over to answer the door.

“you sure it’s undyne?”

“Are you scrubs even home?!”

“nevermind.”

 

* * *

 

 

Undyne chewed her way through her spaghetti dinner, engrossed in her own story, open mouthed and braying.

“-- So then the guy said to me ‘look, I didn’t steal anything! I thought they were giving away free samples’. If I caught him eating a grape, I’d have bought it, but the thing is he had a computer under his arm. He had just walked out with it!”

Papyrus balked, enthralled, while Sans watched them both.

“DID HE THINK THAT WOULD _WORK?_ ”

“Yeah!! He thought I was just gonna be like ‘oh shit dude sorry for the confusion’, instead of laughing and punching him real hard. It’s nuts what people’ll do when they’re caught! I’ve got another story, some guy tried to smuggle an entire toy piano up his--”

She looked to dinner.

“-- You know what, it can wait ‘till later. So, what have you been up to, Paps?”

Papyrus hemmed in thought, methodically spinning his fork. Sans was cramming as much into his maw as he could manage, staining his shirt.

“WELL,” he began, “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK ON MY LEG STRENGTH RECENTLY, NOW THAT I’VE BEEN TAKING RUNNING MORE SERIOUSLY.”

Undyne nodded in appreciation.

“You doing those leg squats I taught you?”

“I AM.”

“Cool.”

“SANS HAS… HAD A BURGER NAMED AFTER HIM AT GRILLBY’S.”

She looked back, pleased.

“What’s in it?”

“bun, cheese, ketchup.”

“That’s so gross, I’m gonna order, like, five.”

And without missing a beat, Papyrus decided to add to the conversation further, all cosied up in the living room, sat against the the beaten up dining table.

“SANS AND I ARE IN LOVE!”

Sans dropped his fork. A dawning, creeping horror set upon him.

“You’re bros,” she snorted, “of course you love each other. You guys fall out, or something?”

Sans looked to Papyrus, broken. He couldn’t handle obloquy. He could barely handle waking up.

“ _please_.”

“SHE HAS TO KNOW.”

Papyrus stared at her, while Sans stared through her.

“ _papyrus._ ”

She laughed, less emphatically this time, still chowing down on her pasta.

“Didn’t think you were one for gross-out humour, dude. Bleh! You got me.”

He held the gaze until finally, it sank in.

“Y-You two are…?”

“SLEEPING TOGETHER,” he said plainly, “YES.”

Undyne retched, and Papyrus dimly hoped that it was his cooking. She could only sputter in disbelief as her mind tried to put together the pieces.  

“Papyrus, that’s… That’s sick.”

“WE LOVE EACH OTHER, AND WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF OUR LIVES TOGETHER.”

She gagged again, guts shaking, a thick trail of saliva dangling from her mouth before hitting the floor.

“WE’RE GOING TO GET MARRIED, ONE DAY.”

She threw up, splattering the carpet in slurry while Papyrus recoiled in disgust.

“ _UNDYNE!_ ”

Sans braced his hands to his skull. This wasn’t happening.

“LOOK--”

She grabbed her coat and left, stepping out into the porch, unable to process what she had heard, before turning around, sprinting back into the living room and grabbing Sans by the collar. Oh. She was going to kill him.

“You think you can force people to do whatever sick shit you want, huh? You think you can force Papyrus to do whatever the you want, freak?”

Dully, Sans noticed the spears manifest, but snapped back to awareness when Papyrus cleaved them out of the air with a whoosh of magic and a snap of bone.

“NOBODY,” he thundered, “IS FORCING ANYONE.”

“You don’t have to lie for him, you don’t--”

Papyrus stood his ground, squaring up, feet planted firmly and his stature looming.

“ _WE’RE IN LOVE, DEAL WITH IT OR LEAVE._ ”

A torrid mixture of pity and disgust swirling in her gut, she tossed Sans back to the couch and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her and leaving them in silence. Papyrus released the breath he had been holding while Sans noted that yes, he was still alive, and yes, the shame was insurmountable. The room stunk of fresh bile, the acrid, foreign reek of vomit.

“... I DIDN’T THINK SHE WOULD ACTUALLY LEAVE.”

“yeah,” Sans scolded, more acquainted with the real world and thus how people usually react to such situation, “she did.”  

“I ASSUMED SHE WOULD JUST… UNDERSTAND. LIKE WE DO.”

Sans said nothing, and Papyrus slowly sunk down to sit.

“OH NO.”

He scratched at the nape of his neck.

“ _OH NO_. DO YOU… DO YOU THINK SHE WENT RIGHT HOME--?”

“ _i don’t know._ ”

Papyrus jolted, before setting out to get the vinegar. He had thirty minutes to kill until Undyne arrived home, and he wasn’t going to do it in a fog of regurgitated spaghetti. The motions would distract him. The act of making something clean.

 

* * *

 

 

Papyrus called, and she picked up on the first trill.

“HI, UNDYNE!”

Nothing.

“I, UM… WANTED TO TALK ABOUT EARLIER.”

Breathing. Oh good, she was there.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS BEST THAT YOU KNEW.”

The room was emptied of noise, and he could feel Sans’ gaze bore into him.

“I ONLY TOLD YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND. YOU DON’T HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIKE IT. BUT PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T TELL ANYONE ELSE.”

Finally, a response.

“... I won’t tell anyone else.”

Papyrus could almost whoop, she was on board, she understood! Love like this wasn’t wrong, it came with blood!

“OH, I’M SO, _SO_ HAPPY YOU--”

He was cut off by the dialtone. His sentence trailed off.

Oh… A poor signal. No problem!

He rang her number again and it rang out before going to her answering machine.

‘Heya, Undyne here! If you can’t get me, I’m--’

He hung up and tried again. Four rings, then to answering machine.

‘Heya, Undyne--’

He hung up, and tried again.

‘Heya, Undyne here! If you can’t get me, I’m either wailing on some punks, or in the shower! Scream your message down the phone, and I’ll get back to you later!’

He declined to do that.

“I JUST WANTED TO, UM… SAY THANK YOU. IT MUST HAVE BEEN QUITE THE SHOCK! SO THANK YOU FOR TAKING IT SO WELL.”

He left a pregnant pause hanging in the air, long enough for Undyne to pick up if she were in the room. She didn’t, so she wasn’t.

“I LOOK FORWARD TO TRAINING. SEE YOU!”

Another pause, just in case she had walked in. She must have went outside, to have not picked up for so long.

“BYE-BYE, UNDYNE!”

He hesitated, before hanging up, and staring at the phone in his hand. Sans was slumped on the couch.

“ _only_ thing i asked you to do.”

“SHE SAID SHE WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE.”

“one thing, papyrus.”

Sans held his face in his hands, his face as locked in place as ever, his bones hanging where they fell.

“what the fuck’re we gonna do.”

“ARE YOU ASHAMED?”

Sans looked at him, too upset for tears, lodged firmly in a miasmatic fog of ignominy. He then stared forward into nothingness. Papyrus tugged at his gloves, guilt setting in.

“SANS.”

“yeah?”

“DO YOU LOVE ME?”

“yeah.”

“IN WHAT WAY--?”

“you happy?”

“... YES.”

Sans chuckled, low, dark, and humourless.

“then in whatever way you think.”

Papyrus made the decision to take that statement at face value, because good boys didn’t pry into things they couldn’t handle the answer to.


End file.
